The Ardent Blade
by Wingless Rain
Summary: The journey continues, and our humble heroes get reinforcements.
1. Prologue

**The Ardent Blade**

* * *

_For your record, I own everything listed here - characters, the story, places, attitudes, names, descriptions, trademarks, logotypes, labels, words, letters, locations, and any inventions. This disclaimer is subject to change within a moment's notice, and should be seen as a 'work in progress,' thus whatever I fill the story with belongs to me._

_You cannot deny this, because posing as the owner of something is not a crime, or even an offense - I'm merely following in the footsteps of such awesome people as Derek Smart, Vdogg, Aero the Echidna, and Cirrus Verant._

-

It was a time of desolation, chaos, violence, bloodshed, and uncertainty. Brother fought brother, sister fought sister, and the sands of time looked set to run out.  
But then, a warrior came. Inside a rabbit.

Clad in a suit of black iron, wielding the sword of swords, the sword which all other swords are named after, and with a highly polished shield of silver strapped to his back, the brave warrior ventured forth into the shrouded dungeons of pulsing darkness that belonged to the villain, the evil-doer, the badguy, the final boss.

A creature from beyond the veil of reality; the despoiler of truth, slanderer of justice, bringer of fear and terror, and rabid Manowar fan - a creature so terrible it should not be able to exist under the weight of its own sins-  
"Steel-machine man Robotnik, I presume."

And thus the vile creature turned, revealing itself to be none other than Robotnik, master of flesh and runic metal.  
"Aye, brave warrior, I am he," it called out. Its hands larger than four buckets of jello, with a belt-buckle the size of a dinner table, and covered from toe to head in arcane, soiled wrappings, used to relieve tension during particularly stressful moments. It brandished a hammer made from pure, concentrated, evil; the bringer of dark doom, death, despar, destruction, and deceit. "I see you have found your way through my lair of lairyness - good, good."

And the warrior beheld the evil tyrant, and, with a thundering voice courtesy of all the angels in heaven, he shouted.  
"I am the one!" he held aloft a magic sword or, rather, _the_ magic sword. "Taste the fury of the Ardent Blade!"

-

Yes, the battle was epic, furious, and filled with furious furries even, but light prevailed over darkness in the end, like so many times before.  
But, hark, how did this awesome thing came to be? How did this legend truly start? Fear not, children, for I will deliver unto you a Burger Lord burger of such epic proportions that you'll never be able to swallow it all.

-

VT2 - 2006.  
SeAn CaTlEtT/King Hadbar - 2006.


	2. The outset

The outset 

-

The lowly youth popularly referred to as 'Shadow,' thanks in no small part to his emotional and dark nature, trudged helplessly through the rainy and cold network of roads that stretched all over Excredialand.  
The village elder had told him that 'it was destiny that had brought him to the present turn of events,' however, he strongly suspected fooling around with the elder's youngest daughter, an eight-year-old rabbit, to be the cause of his sudden journey.

Naturally, he wasn't alone, because the elder had seen fit to assign him company, in the form of the previously mentioned rabbit.  
Together, they were supposed to travel the world in search of a set of wondrous artifacts of religious, spiritual, and monetary value. As was to be expected, the journey was not to be an easy one.

'You have done well in coming this far, my son,' the elder, who was in truth Shadow's father, had muttered through his beardy beard, and Shadow thought he'd seen a bizarre smile concealed beneath the gray mass. 'The path ahead will be long, hard, extremely so, not to mention filled with various twists and turns that may force you to question your own sanity, but in the end you will prevail, because you're empowered by good'  
Because the elder was a known sadist, he'd outfitted Shadow with a wooden helmet, a wooden sword, and a pair of wood-plated pants.  
'Standard issue for all would-be adventurers,' he'd spat, then handed his 'dear, loved daughter' a wood-plated skirt, a sharp stick, and a book with mostly blank pages, not to mention a quite large collection of assorted herbs. 'Powerful healing magic,' the village shaman commented, while bobbing his head wildly, 'though it will bring the feeling of sleep to your head.'

-

After what seemed like less than four minutes, the duo reached a shanty town, populated mostly by humans with pasted smiles permanently attached to their faces.  
Feeling inquisitive for no apparent reason, Shadow strode up to the closest one, a female in her twenties, and simply started talking.  
For no real reason.

"Thou wouldst not know thee way to thee relics and treasure I am on a journey to recover, wouldst thou?" her head turned, quite sharply, machinelike even, and her eyes fell to his level, for our protagonist is short, barely four-foot tall, and his stature equals to exactly one-hundred-and-eighteen centimeters.  
"Hello, young man," she droned, "and welcome to Topple village." Shadow sighed, as any true-blooded hero would, and realized that the adventure would take no less than eight hours to complete.

As is so usual in the world of heroes, dragons, villains, and power metal, the heroine started tugging on Shadow's pants for no reason other than to establish herself as a weak, feminine, and outright petite...heroine.  
Shadow, ever being the gentleman, didn't even bother turn her way.  
"What, Cream? Can't you see I'm busy?" he did this to establish himself as protagonist fueled by an inner fire, a fire that burned bright due to his need for revenge, justice, underaged nookie, and inability to use any kind of things other than healing abilities and weapons.

Yet, the rabbit didn't despair, and instead thrust her sharp stick into Shadow's groin. While he busied himself falling forward, Cream began her rant, in a typically humorous fashion.  
"You dummy," she bonked him on his helmet, to which he didn't reply, or even retort, since no one, not even the evil villain, hurts preteen girls. "We're obviously supposed to enter the shitty tavern over there, and thus discover a sidequest, or a new ally, or receive a piece of junky equipment!"

And so they did.  
I swear it.

-

An excellent ba-tavern, one inhabited by creatures both large and small, yet only one had that superior sprite-quality that could mean only one thing, and one thing only; bitching time, euphemized to 'plot description'  
It was a mean genius, a divine being of epic sprite-quality. Every seam, every shade of color, fit perfectly into place, and it carried a comically large knife, and a leather holster was also strapped to its left thigh.  
Due to the fact it had to fit into the big picture, someone cleverly decided that it was to wear a black coat, with an over-sized collar, reminiscent of a vampire. It sat there, calmly, silently, and sipped cheap wine - its white-tipped, orange, almost red, tail wrapped and unwrapped itself around the chair's legs like the fingers of a hand.

Because he felt like it, Shadow chose to demonstrate his skills for this, obviously, super-sexy bitch, who would clearly serve as his heroine's rival, and thus lead the story into a more 'mature' direction, with a love-triangle centered on Shadow himself.  
He slid her way on the counter, much like a slug, indexes pointed her way, head tilted slightly to the left, and then spoke the words of true men and womanizers everywhere.  
"How ya doin'?" but, gasp! The fox turned around, and, lo and behold, featured the face of a man, a male, a boy, a young, preteen boy, a kit. However, Shadow, being a known pedophile, didn't care. He welcomed diversity, in all its many flavors, and saw the creature's gender as a plus.

Like a pile of goo, oozing with joy, he sat down to a chair cleverly placed to the fox's right. Shadow's left arm slowly snaked its way around the unnamed creature's neck, and, since he wasn't told to 'go die,' he allowed his hand to travel into the coat itself, while he locked his eyes with the blue shards of ice that served as the creature's own eyes.  
"So," he almost whispered, fingers gently passing through silk-like, white fur, "what brings you to this desert, babe?"

A sigh, then the all-but empty glass was slammed down into the counter.  
"Maybe your presence," their eyes stayed locked, but something gnawed at Shadow, almost begged him to leave while he still could. "Maybe I'm waiting for you, my mysterious black knight, or maybe I'm just here on vacation."

So cryptic.  
So cryptic it wasn't even funny, and Shadow didn't even know how old the fox was. It was simply impossible to fully judge him, or even guess at his age, but something didn't feel right about him, the eyes in particular.  
After his thorough gaze into their bottomless depths, Shadow felt sick, physically so, and gladly twisted his head to the right, away from the soul-thieves dug into the orange one's face.  
"You're right," it spoke, voice dripping with malice, "something's definitely out of place here, unnatural even."

Then he slipped effortlessly out of Shadow's grasp, as if the hedgehog's arm wasn't even there.  
"I've decided to accompany you," his words made Shadow feel queasy, and the prospect of the fox tagging along wasn't assuring in the least. "Mostly out of curiosity, but also because it doesn't feel like I have a choice."

"So what's your name, tough boy?" the almost-forgotten heroine, who should stay in the background, where we don't hear her annoying voice, or ever see her stupid comments, asked.  
Shadow still couldn't look at him, and seriously doubted he'd ever be able to.

"Miles."

-

VT2 - 2006


	3. Apocafoxlypse: Now

Apocafoxlypse: Now - Redux

-

With their new companion available, Miles trailed behind Shadow and Cream in a perfect, uniform manner, his eight sprites of walking animation serving him well as they wove in and out of streets in an attempt to pursue their most glorious common quest.

"Shadow?"

"Yes, dairy product?"

"What, exactly, did the elder send you to do?"

"To pursue artifacts of great power and above-average significance!" he struck a pose as he said this, so as to underline the above-average importance of his quest and sex appeal, "In dangerous lands far, far away, because nobody bothers to keep important things close to home!"

"So going out of our way to get them will do what for us?" she further prodded him.

"Power! Position! Prestige! Pride! Pumpernickels!"

"Will there be food?"

"No, you'll have to do without sustenance for the next eight hours."

"But why?"

Shadow bent his brow. Explaining to this slip of a girl about the complex reasoning behind Inns and Save Points would befuddle her undersized noggin, and he wished to use her head for more fleshly pursuits. Establishing his superior male dominance, he thundered, "Because I said so!"

"Darn," she replied, and the matter was forgotten. Worldlier things occupied the adventurers' minds at the moment. Like how to get out of this damned village, where one could locate an apple, and if all townspeople hence would repeat the same line over and over.

The music flowed into a somber dirge as the trio was halted by an unseen force, which allowed someone wrapped in an unrevealing cowl to run up to them.

"You!" the NPC gasped, pointing a shaking finger at Shadow, "You're the one they sent to die!"

"Say what?" was Shadow's brash reply, as per usual for a novice warrior convinced of his own invincibility. The NPC took a breath to recite his alliteration. Without it, he would die.

"_Seven shine upon the sword!"_

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shadow continued in ignorance. The NPC's finger shook even more.

"Not working for you? How about this!"

He took another deep breath, and recited a poem that made angels hide their wings.

"_A green one, for the land below._

_A blue one, for the sky above._

_A yellow one, for the fire within you._

_A red one, for the love beating inside your heart._

_A silver one, for the armor you carry._

_A golden one, for the sword you wield._

_And a gray one, for the mind that guides you on."_

Shadow scratched his ribs.

"Nope, still nothing."

The NPC wrung his bony hands.

"Come _on! _I spent the last seventy years reciting that poem so I wouldn't forget it!"

Annoyed, Tails looked the NPC dead in the eye and recited every line of the poem, word for word, but in a contemporary tenor voice that carried perfect pitch and timbre. Upon hearing those sorcerous words, that had ruled his life, come from the mouth of a complete stranger, the NPC froze, let out an ear-splitting screech and fled. The somber dirge flowed into the village music.

"I'm still lost, and I heard it _twice _now," Shadow muttered, massaging his abused ears. Cream smoothed her wooden skirt.

"I'm hungry."

"No loafing!" Shadow resumed command with a shout, dispelling the demons of despair and doubt that NPC had brought. There was no place for hesitation in a quest this epic!

"Look! A way out of here!"

The portal that would lead to infinite greatness had revealed itself. It had required no less than prophecy wrung from the tortured soul of a NPC to lead the way.

Thus did the adventurers sally forth (to Sally's disgruntlement) into the meadows outside Topple village, which shrunk behind them until it seemed their sprites were larger than it. The rain had stopped. The music became light and cheerful as the sun shone fair and bright upon the verdant turf, and their path was but soft along the rolling hills… until they had taken ten steps. The world shattered, spinning out of focus, revolving around them at high speeds until they were faced with three nondescript green slimes. Here were embodiments of evil that all who quested swore to destroy! A heart-thumping techno beat reverberated phat bass through the lean, mean evil-killing machines.

_Slimes appeared! _floating words announced.

"What happened?" Shadow exclaimed, new to the disorienting battle system.

"A random battle," Miles yawned, idly gesturing with his gun. Indeed, their weapons were in their paws, though none remembered drawing them. To further the confusion, all three stood in battle-ready stances, with no memory of having moved: Shadow stood with his wooden sword grasped in both hands, held rigid and upright; Cream stood slightly behind and to his right, dangling her pointy stick, and Miles simply stood furthest right, gun and knife quiet on either side. It was a phalanx of heroes on one side and a row of slimes on the other, with not three yards between them.

Shadow turned around.

"Hey, where did the village go? And what are these numbers at my feet?"

"Health, Mana," Miles pointed with one of his tails, too unmotivated to turn around also.

"Oh wow, I have more Mana than either of you!" Cream squealed, and then jabbed Shadow in the ribs with her stick, "You don't have ANY Mana!" she shrilled with the exquisite delight of feminism squashing machismo.

"Ouch!"

Shadow's Health number decremented by four.

"The hell you do that for? You're killing me!" the wounded warrior cried.

"Oh wow. That didn't happen in village!" she protested. Miles groaned. A world of peril and godlike glory loomed before them, but here they were, dealing with the dregs – nay, the mutated excrement of the monster kingdom.

Shadow considered the slimes. He waited three minutes. They didn't move, other than emanating an unpleasant smell that reminded him of rotten eggs stewed with liver; a meal he had eaten once that rendered him incapable of eating for a week.

"What's their problem? They're blocking the way!" barked the hero's profound truth.

"You have to attack," parried the roguish fox's profound truth.

"Why?" retorted the eternal question that frustrated gods, supermodels and men alike.

"It's turn-based," Miles explained, rolling his eyes, "Nothing happens until everyone on our side makes a move."

"But this wooden sword is stupid! And it'll get icky if I slap one of those gooey things with it! I'm going to throw a stone," the fearless warrior determined. But the ground was flat, featureless, green. The sky offered no help either.

"Where are all the stones?"

"You can't throw a stone," Miles grumbled.

"Why not?"

Ah, now _there _was the only true response to "Why?" that smacked of nihilism and escapism alike. However, this was no time for philosophy. Miles disliked slippery stones, especially if he had to step on them, so he threw a wrench into Shadow's heroic works.

"You don't have any Blue Magic! That's a monster skill!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

A slime chose that moment to leap into the air and land on Shadow's head, dealing him a single point of damage. All the slime's friends took the hint, one slopping onto a screaming Cream (2 damage) while the last attempted to molest Miles, but the fox stood to one side and huge white letters spelling **MISS** materialized over his head.

Oh, the poesy of first blood drawn! Oh, the infinitude of repetitions wrought afterward! Oh, the cleaning bills! Oh, the funeral costs!

"Ahh! That was disgusting!" Cream summarized, wiping sticky stuff from between her ears and dress.

"But I thought you said _we_ had to move first!" Shadow yelled at Miles.

"They thought you were defending."

"You didn't move!"

"I have the lowest agility."

"You do not! Yours is higher than ours put together!" Cream cried while pointing at the Statistics table she had conjured into existence. Miles raised a single eyebrow.

"I was defending."

"But Cream…"

"She poked you."

"Oh, you're useless!"

With much angst, Shadow whacked a slime out of existence. Red letters spelling **42 DAMAGE **appeared big and bold. Here was the first stroke of many, the one that broke the mould – or the slime – and established Shadow as the ultimate Bane of Evil Stuff.

"Score!"

"Where did it go?" Cream asked, poking the grass where the slime had been. Nothing, not even a slime trail.

"Ahh! Don't do that! They'll think you attacked!" Shadow warned, but it was too late. The two remaining slimes raped Cream, dealing a solid four points of cumulative damage.

"Not fair!" she whined, retreating to her place slightly behind and to the right of Shadow, minus her dignity.

"Okay, your move!" Shadow ordered Miles.

"I'm defending."

"From what? THEY CAN'T HIT YOU!"

"Our turn again," the wily fox reminded him.

"Cream, would you _try _to hit one this time?"

"B… but my agility is less than yours! You have to go first!"

"Oh for the love of…"

The screen zoomed in on his actions. A mighty crack resounded through the meadow as Shadow gave a resounding smash to another slime! Instead of the usual bold fare, giant shimmering letters marking **CRITICAL 84! **cascaded in celebration above. Shadow pumped his fist.

"Who's your daddy? Huh? Huh?"

"Bah," Miles offered. Cream's timid feet approached the last slime and she poked it.

**12 DAMAGE**

The slime remained tangible.

"No _fair! _I hit it, I know I did!"

"You have a spellbook, by the way, and it has 20 HP," said Miles after a quick scan, "Zero defense, four agility, zero mana…"

"Stuff it," Shadow interjected, as the slime burbled and made ready to attack. It chose Miles this time, who again stepped aside with a triumphant **MISS**.

"Okay, that's enough."

With that threat, Miles closed in and slashed the slime apart, moving with a grace and speed befitting the Greek god Mercury.

_**OVERKILL**_

"JESUS! How much damage did you do?" Shadow freaked.

"It never says, on Overkill."

"Pompous bastard!" he grunted, but had to press down on his wooden pants to hide his erection.

"Yay! We won!" Cream jumped up and down, and for some reason Shadow felt the need to spin his wooden plank of a sword before sheathing it. Miles sighed, drawing his eyes to the blank static sky, asking what Jesus must have asked, "Why me?"

A victorious, energetic drum roll heralded their conquest. A black dropdown menu appeared over their heads. The victors' spoils!

_Received 6 EXP._

_Shadow: 24 EXP. to next level._

_Cream: 24 EXP. to next level._

_Miles: 794 EXP. to next level._

_Received 3G._

"Wait a minute, that's not right…" Shadow was about to indicate, when the world faded out and they were on the meadow again. The music was light and cheery again. The village sat small, ten steps from where they had started. Shadow's pocket felt heavier. Upon exploration of his purse, he found three small gold pieces.

"I'm rich! I'm wealthy! I'm financially secure!" he cackled.

"Beyond your dreams of avarice," Miles added noncommittally.

"Now what?" Cream queried.

"Uh… follow the path?" Shadow guessed. They did so. Fifteen steps later, when they were _just _about to go beyond the two dimensional mountains… shatter, spinning, disorientation all over again!

_Slimes appeared!_

"ARGH!" Shadow roared, a cry of desperation matched only by his pathetic stats. Never, never would he be free from this torment! It would surely follow him all the days of his life, or at least for the next eight hours, which had a fairly decent chance of comprising the entirety of his life.

-

LazerTH - 2006


	4. Teh act of l33t s3cks

Teh act of l33t s3cks 

-

It was a funeral!  
Children played in the fields, birds sang in the trees, car-chario-wagons rolled to and fro on the cobblestone roads. All was idyllic and peaceful, phallic even, especially if one considered the rounded shapes of the houses, not to mention their oddly shaped roofs.

Yes, today was a good day to be alive, or dead, or so Shadow thought as he trudged into the next town - the town of Snoicville. It was a happy place, filled with happy people, happy faces, and an abundance of happy happiness and joyous merriment.  
Actually, it wasn't much of a town. Eight houses, of which four featured prominent and very stylised signs, one was obviously a ba-tavern, and one could be classed as a bank, or a fancy manor, or something.

Then there was the castle, cleverly situated in the middle of everything, and surrounded by the eight houses - four on each side.  
"I'm out of place," the creepy voice of Miles called out from Shadow's left, and he couldn't keep himself from shivering violently. Some shuffling, then the fox slithered into the view of Shadow's left eye. "What are we looking for?"

A trick question, Shadow thought, then scratched the splintery wood on his head.  
"Well," he mumbled after a few minutes of silence, "I have no idea, but let's check out the shops while we're in town"  
"Village," Miles almost whispered. "Despite the castle, this is a village." Then he gracefully stepped in front of the black hedgehog, which could not be called a gangsta at this point of the adventure. To Shadow's surprise, Cream, the love of his life, followed the fox like a slave.

-

A fat man, with no hands, one arm, no feet, and no legs, barely acknowledged the trio's presence inside his weapons store,n or 'arse-enal,' as he so often called it. Of course, Shadow had no way of knowing this, now did he? In any case, he did, for some reason that could, potentially, be explained in the future, but probably won't. Shut up! I'm going to rewrite this, revise it even, with black-jack and hookers! And I won't forget the revision, because it's my all!  
"Yeah, right, welcome," he finished by spitting a massive ball of chewed tobacco at them, which passed only centimeters from Shadow's left ear. He sat on a stool, and looked pissed for no real reason, other than that it may just be one of his character traits.

"We need guns," Cream whined. "Lots of guns." The man frowned, then a piece of tobacco struck her in the face.

Miles, in an uncharacteristically emotion-packed act, sighed, put his right hand on his forehead, then shook his head an excessive number of times, and Shadow heard the unmistakable sound of grinding teeth.  
"These two would like to trade in junk for hardware," he calmly stated before pacing over to the man. "However, I don't see anything of value in here."

"You fool!" the man shouted. "Everything's digitalized these days, including weapons, armor, helmets, shoes, data, money, drugs, and my tobacco! Here," he slammed his elbow against the wall behind him, and a counter appeared out of nowhere, as well as several crates stuffed with useless equipment, "my selection! Now, turn in your shit"  
And they did so without ever looking back.

-

They made a beautiful exist.  
Miles' superior charisma score, not to mention extremely high Persuasion skill, meant that they successfully traded Cream's stick for a platinum scepter of ogreslaying, a light plate, two pairs of iron-plated shoes, a shield made from solid gold, a shotgun made from solid gold, diamond buckshot shells, a six-shooter, two splintmails, and a pool cue.  
To prove his superiority, and assert himself as the true king of fools, Miles also demanded that the man gave him all the cash in his register, which he duly did.  
Unfortunately for the trio, the shop only sold human-sized armor, so the classically, although highly unrealistic, Shadow and Cream were left without any improved defensive abilities, and Miles never put on any of the new gear.

All items bought vanished into thin air, and the content-looking fox pulled out a lollipop from one of his pockets, then led the group out of the broke dealer's shop.  
"I have no idea how that happened, or why you even did it," Shadow almost grunted, then stretched, pool cue in hand.

The fox shuffled the candy stick between his lips, then came to an abrupt halt no less than eight steps from where they started out, to no one's real surprise, since they'd reached the castle.  
"Magic," he declared, then withdrew the lollipop from his mouth, even waved it around like a magic wand a few times, "and preparation is key."

"I thought I was the magic user," Cream mumbled, almost sobbing.  
But, alas, before either male fighter could say anything, they were greeted by a small army of gray and blue guards, and Shadow noticed that they all had an uncanny resemblance to each other.

"Halt!" the only one that wasn't a clone, a human in red armor and a gray helmet, as opposed to a gray helmet and blue armor, called out, his halberd pointing in pretty much all directions known to science at the same time. "I have been instructed not to let anyone pass, be they man or beast, but I might give you passage, if you give me a platinum scepter of ogreslaying."

Shadow couldn't believe the sheer mass of stupidity, but saw no reason to argue. He simply produced the aforementioned scepter, which was probably worth a small fortune, and handed it to the guard, who was obviously captain of the guard.  
Well, obviously he was.

-

And there was much, much sadness as they strode into a miniscule yard, partially covered by perfect lines of perfectly cut tombstones.  
A large gathering of people, presumably everyone that inhabited the to-village, had gathered to watch someone, in this case a very deformed blue thing, being lowered into the ground, in a coffin made from rare and precious minerals, and beset by large emeralds.

"Oh, look," Shadow said and pointed, almost unable to suppress a gasp at the riches located only a few steps away. "A funeral!"

"There is indeed a funeral," Cream called out, too, then stole Shadow's pool cue.

"Who's the dead guy?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know?"

"Because I don't know."

"Why's that, you think?"

"I don't think at all; I'm a petite, preteen heroine, with an annoying voice, child-like features, and a virtual warehouse filled to bursting point by stupid one-liners that I spew constantly."

"Oh."

Then Miles had enough of their antics, and, while grinding through his teeth, forcefully shoved Shadow straight forward, aimed for the coffin with the dead guy in it.  
Because Shadow hated life in general, he decided that it was a smart move to grab the fox's arm as he passed him, and this, for some reason, and despite the fact that Shadow, with all his gear on, weighed less than Miles, dragged him along into the coffin.

"And we deliver this child of darkness to you, our lord satan," the occult priest, who was surrounded by a ring of candles, eyeless villagers, and bleeding goat heads, muttered while reading from a black tome of epic proportions, then he kicked the coffin so hard that the lid closed.

-

Shadow couldn't have been happier, especially considering the awkward position he was in.  
His larger, sexier, and so much more useful companion lay above, and seemed eerily untroubled by the prospect of being buried alive, along with a bloody, mutilated corpse.  
The combination of fox and darkness got to his head, and his arms slowly wrapped around the warm waist of the one above.

No protests, yet he knew he shouldn't do it. Shadow bit his lip, head curled up against Miles' leather-covered back. He'd be happy if he went through with it, wouldn't he? Yes, of course, at least for a short while, but then what.

Yes, then what. His tail wrapped around the hedgehog's left leg, and he knew then that he was doomed.

"If you like what you see," the fox's voice had changed, grown softer, warmer somehow, and Shadow felt his paws being grazed by Miles' hands. His touch was unnatural, like he knew each and every single one of Shadow's dreams, hopes, and desires, and he couldn't help but sigh as they finally landed on his gloved fingers, "then take it."

It was an invitation, one that he could not resist, no matter how stygian the words sounded.  
He crawled upwards, compacted himself so that he could fit between the corpse and his desired lover, then slowly inched his way up to Miles' head and upper torso. The height difference got to him, and he realize he would need stilts to reach his goal if the fox was standing up, but he didn't care - he was too determined to see it through, driven by needs and lusts he'd never even imagined could exist.

He laid his head to rest on the corpse's head, but payed the bloody pieces that entwined with his quills no mind; it was on other, more pressing, things.  
As if on cue, Miles turned his head slightly, then regarded Shadow with his left eye. So very haunted. So very forbidding, yet so very, very irresistible and beautiful, like he'd been carved by a master sculptor, to mirror his version of perfect, which just so happened to be Shadow's version of perfect, too. What he had between his legs didn't matter. Normally it would. but not this time.

Without warning, the fox spun around, almost unhindered by the confines, then thrust his head forward towards Shadow's face.  
Their lips touched, and a warm whiff of air struck Shadow in the face. It was so perfect. A long tongue snaked its way down the black one's throat, and the fox's left hand landed on Shadow's face. Its fingers moved, passed through the quills, pricked themselves repeatedly, yet the kiss didn't die. Warm red streaked his face, and he allowed a silent moan to escape his lips as Miles' right hand slowly, achingly slowly, made its way down his chest, index trailing through his fur, the nail just barely touching the skin concealed beneath

It was all so very wrong, so very taboo, but he couldn't resist.  
The hand slid its way into his wood-plated pants, and then-

The lid swung open, and Shadow was eyed very closely by Cream, her head tilted to the left, face covered by a veryconfused look.  
"Are you two wrestling?"

-

A booming laughter echoed from behind Shadow, then both he and his lover were forcefully ejected from the coffin by a pair of very cold hands.

Shadow landed quite hard, but quickly forced himself to turn around. What he saw didn't exactly shock him - it was more of a humbling feeling.  
"Who dares disrupt the everlasting sleep of the recently deceased?" the corpse, now hovering for virtually no reason, spat curses at him, its face broken beyond repair, as if something had used it as an escape route. "I think I deserve an answer."

"No," Miles, who'd already gotten up, glared at the creature defiantly, arms folded across his chest, "you don't."

The black protagonist didn't believe his ears.  
His dad, the decaying elder, had clearly stated that disagreeing with the undead only led to trouble, and plenty of it. Because the world hated him, the corpse froze, then exploded in a gory mess, and out from this mess grew a monster of titanic proportions: covered metal-laced muscle and bony protrusions. Its head was that of a goat, only the horns were larger, and it sported a figure that vaguely remembered him of humans.

Miles, ever the perfect timer, stepped to Shadow's right.  
"The head," his left arm rose, then his index pointed straight at the massive thing in question, "is the weak spot, as almost always."

A loud sigh, courtesy of a certain rabbit.  
"We can't kill that thing, and you know it," Cream chimed in from behind the fox. Shadow, though he was the hero and everything, silently agreed with his previous object of hidden desires. It just didn't seem possible to win.

"Amateurs," Miles frowned, then cocked his head from left to right. The creature busied itself with throwing dead villagers and tombstones around, and he didn't see any reason to rush.

"Then kill it yourself if you're so fucking good!" Shadow shouted, on the verge of panic.

-

Deep breath. Exhale.  
Watch the current tide slow down as my heart-rate goes up.  
Inhale sharply, feel the air scrape through my lungs like liquid fire. My right hand takes control, reaches for the knife

sheath located on the left side of my torso.  
This is what death looks like when he's dressed in flesh.

My fingers close around the handle, and I recognize my emotions, my thoughts, even my mood. Head tilts forward as I draw the blade, enjoy the perverted joy it causes me as it slips from its protective covering, then I bend myself down into a crouch. I'm hunting again, for no reason other than the hunt itself.

Smirk, squeeze the plastic grip.  
Then I pounce.

First step, and I've left all mortal men behind. Topple candles and skulls as I move with the speed of death.  
Second step, and my vision's bouncing. Leap over the holy man, then he's out of my memory forever.  
Third. The goal beckons me, draws me into its deadly embrace, and I desire it so. This is the only time when I'm free.  
Fourth, and we draw. Blade meets horn, and the sparks and chips are everywhere.

I'm slashing for its arms, gouging holes and creating gashes in the unprotected flesh; a frenzied whirlwind of blood and steel. I weave my web, then barely step out of the way for its right arm; a hulking mass of steel-mixed muscle and bone, that impacts with the ground and scatters pieces everywhere. Drops of blood paints the grass my favorite color; crimson.  
The sky feels red, slick, like blood, same with the air that passes into me, changes and charges me.

Error, and a massive one, detected too late.  
Spin again, fix my arms like steel beams in order to prepare for the inevitable. Left arm strikes me like a flail, sends me flying backwards, and I can't help but wonder what went wrong as my feet leave the ground behind.  
It's all in my mind, as always. Choose to ignore the pain, the impact even, because I can. My hidden strength is revealed for all those who care to watch.  
My mistake, as is so very common, was to get too involved. I should have defended more, fought less, or at least mixed them as evenly as possible, but it's too late for that now - too late for even a final farewell.

Turn around sharply in the air, land vertically on a large tombstone, then it's time to retake the battle. Throw my head around, lock eyes with the creature. No fun, too bulky and slow, thus it must end now, before I get bored for real and take out my frustration on those around us.  
Extend my left leg to the ground below, take a mighty breath, then I let loose an earth-shattering battle cry that is so out of place that the creature visibly backs away.  
So much for the forces of pure evil.

I'm at it again before I've even had time to blink, my feet bounds me up its torso, towards its head. It looks so scared, like it knows what's going to happen next. I'm feared. By an incarnation of death.  
Without warning, I swing my knife down in a vertical arc, which rips through the exposed skull with ease, and passes the metal deep into its brain, but I don't stop.  
Grab a horn with my left hand, squeeze it so tight my fingers probably whiten, then I pull the blade downwards, towards me, and the skull can't even stand up to my strength for more than a second before it breaks like paper. It's already dead, obviously, but I like to play things safe.  
Or at least that's what I tell myself when I'm all alone.

Split it open, down to the left eyesocket. A sudden spurt of blood stains my grinning face, but it doesn't matter.  
My face warps into one of my sick smirks, and I feel alive.

-

"Wasn't that a bit too explicit?" Shadow stated as he watched the fox wipe his face on the body of a nearby dead villager. Red quickly replaced white.

"Explicit from your point of view, or my point of view?" Miles called back, without even so much as turning around. No answer came, because Shadow knew he couldn't best the fox. "I love winning mental duels with a single comment. It makes me feel so alive and superior," Miles shot back, neutral as ever, but his voice was obviously laced with both spite and disdain.

Once he'd deemed himself sufficiently groomed, he produced a large, green stone, to Shadow's shock and awe.

-

VT2 - 2006


	5. QVQA

QVQA

-

"I'm not saying it again," said it that was orange and brooding in all ways inconceivable.

"Come on, Miles! I want to know what I'm looking for! How can I be a true hero on a conquest to save the world if I can't even remember what I put down on a grocery list?" Shadow cried in the whiniest of whiny ways, befitting only to such a hero as he.

Their wanderings around the flattened green field had somehow brought them through wind, rain, snow, sleet, and snow in a matter of mere minutes, and was a long and treacherous journey. One that could only be sought after by those who'd squandered their lives in pursuit of whatever it was they felt was necessary to save the hometown and get laid in the strangest ways.

"So mysterious," Shadow thought allowed, quietly, without noise, to himself. Of course, he spoke of that which was Miles, the tall, dark figure in front of him. His current desires manifested.

"Are we there yet?" came the shrill voice of his long-eared companion, the kind of silence breaking sound that only a truly evil being could emit. But alas, this was only Cream, his first love.

After almost 18 minutes straight of walking, they came to another portal, the likes of which was surrounded by many a thingy thing of thinginess. Wood strewn about as if to make some kind of shoddy fencing surrounded the portal, as well as ropes and dead sailors with hats. Miles stepped in front of the group and pointed at the portal for what seemed like seconds before finally spouting out some words.

"The next one should be through here," he declared, monotone and free of anything but angsty angst that was, indeed, quite angsty.

"Next what?" came the damned question. Miles shifted uneasily and stared at Cream with pure, deep-rooted hatred in his eyes. He stepped towards the portal and suddenly the world faded. As if two pictures were blended together, so too were this world and the next as they were transported to a small port-a-town. Many a sailor and a whore wandered the streets, the latter being to Shadows grim, distaste.

He quickly groped Cream and then wandered his way towards what looked like a fine ship for voyaging across a long-winded ocean on.

"Shouldn't we stock up on better equipment first?" suggested Miles in his wisdom and all-knowing angstiness.

"Nein, fowl harlot! There beist no time for such endeavours of sin and pleasure! We must sally-forth towards victory and women of young ages…and boys!" declared Shadow as only a truly, mighty hero could.

Shadow strode onward onto the great ship, followed by Cream who was busy chewing on the pool cue from before.

Miles merely shook his head and looked to the ground, cursing the heavens and the author of this story for placing him in such a lack-luster role. One that he would not be able to escape for at least another 7 and a half hours.

"Has it been so long?" he thought to himself as he climbed aboard.

--

As they climbed aboard the S.S: S.S.S. the crew looked at them, all smiling big and singing a gay sailor song about life at sea and sodomy. Shadow, being the truest, gayest, and mightiest of them all, began joining in, much to Tails' chagrin. Cream, being only so old had no clue what was going on so she began running around and dancing with all of the sailors.

Miles quietly, forebodingly, devilishly, dominatingly, and other adverbs as well, approached a lone sailor, obviously the captain – he had a bigger hat than everyone else – and gently tapped his shoulder.

"Is this ship heading north?" A quizzical foxy-fox named Miles asked.

"YES, SIR!"

--

"Whoa! Why are we in the middle of the ocean?" Shadow questioned as he now noticed that all the sailors were gone, leaving him, Cream, and Miles all standing agape in awe at the massive ship's ease with driving itself.

Miles wandered around the poop deck, feeling uneasy at the sudden change in tide and weather patterns. It was raining before, now it's bright and sunny. "What could've brought this hellish dissonance upon us?" he thought.

Shadow quickly molested Cream once again, as a true hero would, and leapt to his feet, triumphantly announcing, "We got a _boat_!"

A sharp cracking noise and suddenly a sailor appeared screaming.

"It's the-the-the-!" he stuttered. He was suddenly lifted into the air by a giant phallus.

"The GIANT OCTOPUS!" he screamed, being ripped in half by the tentacles. One half of his spritey-self landed upon the deck and whispered a useful tip to Shadow: the very weakness of the giant octopus. Alas, Shadow forgot it soon after as the world around them spun like a kaleidoscope.

--

"Be on guard, and get ready to fight!" Miles shouted, in such a way that even Shadow himself as the mighty hero, could not match it.

"NOO! I AM BEING RAPED!" Cream is raped violently, and explicitly for several hours.

Shadow reaches out in futility in an attempt to grab her first, but all he can do is watch in horror as the creature suits its terrifying lusts upon his love.

Suddenly, a bold, black box with bold, white lettering appears over their heads. It reads, "**Defeat the octopus before it has its way with Cream!**" What follows is another box with the number **30** above the creature's head.

"What the hell is that?" Shadow shouts, angered by box.

"It's a counter. We have thirty attacks to kill this thing, or it kills us and takes Cream as its bride for all eternity." Miles explained, in a ready position, his weapons hanging almost limp and deft at his sides.

"Take away my love, will you? I'll kill you!" cried he who was black. It was time to engage. First Shadow leapt forward and struck the beast with his penis. The phrase **_Critical – 80_** appeared overhead and Shadow returned to his appropriate place, his sprite seamlessly animated with full, sixteen-bit color.

The octopus makes a strike directed at Miles. A quick leap out of the way, and the word, **Miss**, appears overhead, disappearing after he returned position. From there, he retaliated with a leap up, followed by a stab into the great beasts magnificent eye. A loud roar came, followed by, **-246**.

"My _God_, Miles! You are truly a beast of sexiness!" Shadow exclaimed, disguising his hard-on as a sheathed sword.

"You're up Shadow! Aim for its weak point!" Miles cried.

Shadow nodded and heroically leapt forward and came down towards the overgrown monster. His face morphed to that of sheer determination and pride as he determinedly and proudly landed ten feet away from the octopus, missing it completely. Suddenly the words "**Counter-attack!**" appeared overhead. Miles gasped and watched as the octopus lifted a limb out of the water, gripping a giant anchor.

"Oh…this can only end tragically…" he mumbled quietly to himself. From here, the limb lunged at Shadow, shoving the anchor and itself up into his anal regions causing a gory explosion, mixed with a lot of white.

--

"Daily dose of medications!" Shadow cried as he awoke in a brightly lit room filled with businessmen of sorts. He stood and looked down, realizing that he was dressed in a suit like them, and in his right hand, he held of a briefcase that read, "**Confidential Case Files**." A few of the people stared at him briefly and approached him.

"Would you care to purchase car insurance?"

First a deafening scream and then silence as he awoke in a city filled with sailors, whores (again to his disgust) and many large men. Miles stood about five feet away, looking around as if completely uninterested in what was going on. Cream was looking down over Shadow, a look a terror, passion, and tearful joy the likes of which would've been Emmy award winning had it not been too late to be nominated for one.

"Wow, Miles you were right! It _did_ work!" she exclaimed hugging Shadow. Shadow pushed her off and ran to Miles hugging him. "You saved my life, my love!" he cried before Miles looked at him. The look of angst and hate was a little too much so Shadow returned to Cream and molested her once again.

"We got the blue emerald and the boat," Miles explained, in a monotone manner. Shadow nodded and pointed his sword forward.

"Onward!"

-

Gogehenks/Norick Madcaskae - 2006


	6. Deadly asians like Starcraft

_Because God hates us all._

--

And so they arrived! No longer were they on the ship filled with happy sailors singing happy songs of choking chicks and sodomy. No, they had finally arrived at the next port: Mansecks.

Not to be confused with New Mansecks. You see, several years ago, Mansecks was tired of being associeted with their noisy ghetto - also known as the upper east side to all the homies. So! In an act of rage and somewhat coherent intelligence, they separated themselves from the province in a timely manner involving much violence, ethnic cleansing, and lube. Especially lube. But this was merely a paragraph intended to distract the reader. Forward!

Naturally, Mansecks was inhabited with male inhabitants and only male inhabitants. Except for Martha, that whore that ocassionally stands at the corner of 4th Street, but that's another story entirely.

But this was not important to Shadow. Shadow was a hero. He was a savior! Things like this did not concern him nor his low level of Mana! But the fact that all these men wore nothing but blue thongs did.

Miles sighed, angstily of course. Today was going to be a long day, as he lovingly fondled the blue jewel in the pocket of his robe. Very, very lovingly.

Dairy product was distracted of course.

"Where the hell did you get that lip gloss! It's so pretty! I got to have some!" cried the preteen, seemingly unaware of how awful her dialogue sounded, especially in pixelated form.

--

Somewhere in a deep, dark, dank, dirgy, dirty, unclean, and largly in need of a visit from the Fab Five dungeon, a creature lurked.

But this wasn't some kind of amateur lurking. No! This creature scoffed at such attempts to lurk by those so-called demon spawn. Bunch of poseurs they were. They didn't have the kind of experience it took to lurk like he did. Surely, if Bruce Springsteen had written a song called Lurking In The Dark, this guy would've been on the cover of that album. Although he had a student at one time who was pretty decent at lurking, he soon ran off after starting some rebellion against his boss or something. Name was Lucifer and he enjoyed sadism, torturing, and peanut brittle. Odd chap he was.

But that was not important for this lurker! Not at all. All that was important was the coming storm.

A storm to sweep away all life, enjoyment and heterosexual relations from the world. A storm that would surely make any people with hopes of having a relatively normal sex life cry. A storm of Gay.

He breathed some of the musty air and exhaled, enthralled by his own ability to lurk.

"It is coming," he spoke prophetically. "Soon, the world will bow down to Buttluv Inc."

The lurking lurker heard a snicker somewhere in the back of his mind, but he ignored and instead chose to keep lurking.

--

"I told you for the last time, I'm not going to waste money on lip gloss."

Dairy product huffed and started pouting like the jailbait she was. Miles kept silent lest he attract the attention of the preteen whore and cause her to say something in that shrill, unholy sound she dared to call a voice. Shadow however sighed, angstily of course, silently wishing for another tentacle monster. The walking continued. Out of the town, and into the grassland again. But the rowdy group of heroes were incapable of even taking a half-step before...

Explosions! Explosions everywhere! The world warped and twisted so much that to merely think of how much it actually had was to simply venture into insanity. Miles sighed again, angstily of course. The creature that stood before them now was so hideous, so absolutely horrific that one could only be capable of looking at it 8-bit form. To gaze at it in 256 color would simply be suicide.

"What do we do! We can't fight that thing!" cried Derivative Of Milk.

"I suggest we defend," cried Shadow in fear. He didn't want to get raped. He only wanted to rape the blue-eyed fox next to him.

"That'll never work, this thing would tear through us in seconds," added Miles. "We can only attack."

Then, without warning, the creature reared back its head and in a display that would bring the most burliest of men to their hairy knees, it let a cry that shook the very ground and struck fear into doG himself.

"KEKEKEKE ZERG RUSH ( O.O )"

"Oh God, it's so horrible," cried Shadow collapsing to his knees, cradling his fragile ears which had begun bleeding profusely.

"My eyes! My eyes!" screamed Common Additive To Coffee. Her eyes had simply ceased to exist, and only bloody sockets remained while puss seeped from every orfice she had left.

Miles sighed again, angstily of course.

Then for no reason whatsoever, the chapter ended.

--

GtaJake - 2006


	7. French crusader: Fury of the Crucifix

French Crusader - Episode VII - Fury of the Crucifix 

-

It was a creature from the blackest black abyss of hell, something so inconceivably evil that not even Allison Fleury herself could have spawned its like, not even if she was given two-billion years to splice genes and rape balding men of wimpy statures.  
So evil that not even Shin or Nesius themselves could appreciate it - so disturbed that Rain couldn't even fake a smirk in its presence, no matter how hard he tried. Sean Catl- King Hadbar freaked as it was mentioned, claiming that it was a 'blow too low even for me.'

Yes, truly it was death incarnate; satan in the flesh. The baron of hell walked Excredialand, like he'd never walked before. Or more like ran, screaming 'satanmania' at the top of his voice every chance he got, dressed only in a yellow shirt.  
Mansecks loomed in the immediate distance, as the heroes were forced on the defensive by the beast of infinite evil. At least two of them were, anyway.  
Yes, anyway.

A massive gathering had gathered on the outskirts of the four-pixel villag- kingdom of sexually free men known as Mansecks, complete with lit torches, pitchforks, and crazy, naked men with planks strapped to their faces.  
They waited in relative silence for the warriors of light, peace, justice, faggotry, and sexual innuendo to pass, then a protective circle formed around them, the sexy and very hostile fox in particular.

But, hark! Just as the villagers looked set to perform the YMCA to banish evil forever and eternally, a man stepped forth. A man of epic proportions, arcane swordplay, and homosexual vigor.  
A man, so great that we must speak only of him in italics. A man, so powerful and spiritually blessed that he could only be japanese.  
"Zachre bleu!" he shouted, brandishing a needle-bladed sword of blue and white plastic. His uniform, more protective than the most protective of armors of protection plus-infinity, was also blue and white, and decorated by countless buckles, clasps, straps, and golden buttons. On his chest was a cross of bluest blue, shielded from the white surrounding it by black. "Zis iz not good!"

His voice was that of masculinity - in reverse. Blue eyes, blonde drag- hair! He pulled out a massive cross of purest silver, kissed it gently, almost lavishly.  
"Your zin iz beyond zee grace of god!" the cross was returned to whence it came, then his left hand, the one holding the sword, was raised and pointed straight at the unholy evil. "Wat I'm about to do haz never been done, becauze it could deztroy zee world!"

Shadow, ever stupid, chimed in, from behind the relative safety of twenty or so heavily muscled men with black mustaches.  
"How do you know that if you haven't ever tried it?" The world grew silent - not even a breath could be heard.

Until...  
"Zilence!" the crusader of manlove cried out, then a strong fist crashed down on Shadow's head, all-but depleting his pathetic health bar. "Zmiting eez not zomething that one of your dubiouz talentz could ever ope to underztand!"

The brooding piece of manly tail that was called Miles decided to grace the world with his words.  
"Then get started, zealot, before I beat you to it," none dared strike at the Internet icon of pornography, for they'd all enjoyed several hours worth of fun with it.

The nameless crusader, however, didn't feel threatened in the least, since he'd starred in almost half as much porn as the creature, despite having been around a whole bunch of years less.  
"Moi eez a hundred-and-sixzzzty-tree centimeterz of half-zkirted, loincloted, action!" he called out in his superior voice of entrancing sensuality, which made all but Miles and Cream moan in delight. "On my zignal, we will all chant zee song of brotherly mazturbation, then zee creature will be banished - forever, juzt like zee autobots!"

-

A storm brewed, a storm of gay, and the evil creature froze as the villagers, led by the crusader in white, sang their song of death and destruction.  
"I'm a fjukhead from the fjords, let us pound our meat together!" they sang out in a choir of grand volume and bear-chested manly might.

The shamen retold the story of Sigmund the king over the villagers' chants, a king who came upon a man, Knutar Swede-cleaver - clad only in a blue thong. He looked upon Sigmund the king; one-eyed he was, one-armed, and also one-testicled, and he heaved up his meat against the barbarian king of old, and as Sigmund smote fiercely with the sword, it burst asunder in furious ejaculations; thenceforth the slaughter and dismay turned to festivities of copulation and seminal rains, for the good sense of king Sigmund had departed him, and the men fell fast to spraying their seed upon the fields. Naught did the king spare himself, but relieved himself happily and copiously on his men while singing to all the song of brotherly masturbation; "I'm a fjukhead from the fjords, let us pound our meat together."

The world was out of joint, distorted, altered beyond mortal minds, and Shadow found himself face-to-face with the evil creature of terror, fear, and darkness.  
Of the villagers, there was no sign, but the music had changed into a catchy techno/dance mix.

On his left was the crusader of buttsex and christian beliefs, named Ky, in caps.  
"I muzt zmite tiz creature, to prove myzelf azz a man!" blue sparkles and pink rainbows danced around him, then he got into a crouch. "Lide-o the rightning!" A ball of blue electricity formed around him, and even propelled him towards evil incarnate.

An injury animation, followed by a disheartening blurb; 'five hits, sixty damage.'

He returned as if nothing had happened, then flashed Shadow as thumbs-up - the ultimate sign that his crew was totally insane, and that they were doomed for real this time.  
"Fuck it," Shadow called out in characteristic emo fashion, grabbed the pool cue with both hands, "we're so fucked," then leapt at the creature.  
The wood struck true, and chipped a solid six points off the creature's health bar - which meant that it did slightly less than Ky's onslaught of christian righteousness.

Because he hated his companions with a passion, Miles switched to his defensive pose - a quite usual occurrence.  
"Cream," the fox spat words of command, "heal Shadow before he's killed." Uncharacteristically, he gestured towards the black knight in question with his knife. "Ky," he continued, "summon something long, hard, big, and damaging to kill the thing we're fighting."

It was an act of great justice, because they now had direction.  
Cream whipped out her massive tome from an alternate dimension, shuffled through the mostly-empty pages, and eventually stumbled upon the spell she so desired to cast.  
With her right index raised to the heaven, the rabbit spoke awesome words of powerful power. "Heal!" and so it came to pass, that Shadow was cured of a very tiny portion of pain - nine points to be precise - and felt slightly better and safer.

Then the creature spun around, and smote him to bloody chunks with its tail. Red numbers below his green and blue bars indicated that nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine points of damage had been scored.  
As violent as his death may have seemed at the time, he found himself face-down on the ground only seconds later, his physical vessel just as perfect as it had been upon his unfortunate demise, with not even a drop of blood scattered on the green, pixel grass.

"Tiz iz impozzible!" Ky cried out like only a true, blue and white french crusader could. "I zummon Bob, the Aryan Chocolate Warrior!" Lightning split the sky, the earth roared in protest, and little children started crying for no reason.

Suddenly, everywhere was wasted.

-

A figure of aryan purity descended from the heavens. Divine warmth bathed the onlookers in heavenly light of godly purity and prosperity.  
A pale-skinned angel, dressed only in a cloud, and with a rainbow above his head. His face was like the sun, and his legs were like the purest of white chocolate. He was holding a little scroll, which lay open in his hand. He planted his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land, then he gave a shout like the roar of a lion. When he shouted, the voices of the seven thunders spoke. And when the seven thunders spoke, Shadow was about to write, but he heard a voice from heaven say "Seal up what the seven thunders have said, and do not write it down." Then the angel he had seen standing on the sea and the land raised his right hand to heaven.

And he swore, by he who lives forever and ever, who created the heavens and all that is in it, and the earth, and all that is in it, and the sea, and all that is in it, and he said...

"There will be masturbation!"

A virtual storm of jagged seminal effusions rained down in evil incarnate's immediate area, and, like Sigmund before it, its brainpan was pierced by the sharp shards of would-be life.  
And the noble band of adventurers, now saved from the brink of oblivion by the most esteemed crusader of french virtues of purity, were righteous with the lord.

-

Thus spoke the crusader of all that was good, in a voice becoming of his grand stature.  
"I am going wit you, on a quezt to obtain zee holy gril- I mean grail, zee holy grail, not zee holy grill!"

And in his divine wisdom of god-blessed divinity, the recently resurrected Shadow did indeed reply thusly.  
"What? Why?"

Sincerely, and guided by light, Ky enlightened the crowd.  
"Becauze Chaoz emeraldz and zee Ardent Blade are objectz of hearzay and witccraft, and only one zuc azz I may be allowed to safekeep them until judgement day comez!"

Semi-puzzled, yet still with the grace of black hedgehog everywhere, Shadow boomed a statement.  
"I'm sure you meant 'heresy,' yet somehow confused the two."

Infuriated by the black one's lack of intelligence, Jesus mark-two spat words of contempt, complete with boisterous bodylanguage.  
"Zilence!" the flat of his plastic sword caught Shadow squarely in the face. "When I zay erezy I mean erezy!"

Then the true and god-sent blessed warriors of light, justice, christian ideals, and crucifixes set out to conquer the world, motivated by the purest of libido, and guided by the Panzer pope's Bible blitz.  
Nothing would ever be the same ever again, ever.

However, just as the righteous avengers set out to avenge the injustices done to them in ages past by the foul talons of jews and muslims, Miles decided to show his face once more, and in his left hand was a gray stone of witchcraft and heresy.

-

VT2 - 2006


	8. You don't know Jack

You don't know Jack 

-

A miracle!  
Truly it was, since the team of joyous and righteous crusaders of buttsex and bad taste cruised through the landscape. For they had walked twenty-six steps without running into a single random battle!

"Truly," Shadow, blackest among the black, said while picking his teeth with the piece of wood that served as his trusty sword, "this is a joyous occasion of the highest caliber, one that only befalls righteous crusaders of buttsex and bad taste such as we thre- four."

Twenty-seven. The world started spinning.

"Zacre maron!" Ky cried out in vain protest.

-

A wild Tyler Durden appeared!

Shadow, I choose you! Go, Shadow!

Fight.  
Bag.  
RPGmon.  
Run.

Fight  
-  
Pool cue  
Woodenswrd  
Rub genitals  
Stroke self

Tyler Durden used WITTY LANGUAGE! A critical hit! It's SUPER EFFECTIVE!

Shadow fainted.

Ky, I choose you! Go, Ky!

Fight.  
Bag.  
RPGmon.  
Run.

Fight  
-  
Lide-o the Rightning  
Shonen-ai  
Holy Orders  
Bible Blitz

Ky used BIBLE BLITZ! A critical hit! It's not very effective.  
Tyler Durden used SARCASM! A critical hit! It's SUPER EFFECTIVE!

Ky fainted.

Cream, I choose you! Go, Cream!

Fight.  
Bag.  
RPGmon.  
Run.

Fight  
-  
Heal self  
Induce pedophilia  
Rabbit punch  
Butterfat

Tyler Durden used METAPHOR! It's not very effective.  
Cream used BUTTERFAT! Tyler Durden's Speed GREATLY FELL!

Tyler Durden used WITTY LANGUAGE! It's SUPER EFFECTIVE!

Cream fainted.

Miles, I choose you! Go, Miles!

Fight.  
Bag.  
RPGmon.  
Run.

Fight  
-  
Instant kill  
Sadden  
Quicksilver  
Macabre act

Tyler Durden used METAPHOR! Miles is unaffected.  
Miles used MACABRE ACT! Tyler Durden's ATTACK, DEFENSE, AND SPEED GREATLY FELL!

Tyler Durden used WITTY LANGUAGE! Miles is unaffected.  
Miles used SADDEN! Tyler Durden's Accuracy GREATLY FELL!

Tyler Durden used SARCASM! Miles is unaffected.  
Miles used SADDEN! Tyler Durden's Accuracy GREATLY FELL!

Tyler Durden used COMPLETE OWNAGE! The attack missed!  
Miles used QUICKSILVER! A critical hit!

Tyler Durden used COMPLETE OWNAGE! The attack missed!  
Miles used MACABRE ACT! Tyler Durden's PP dropped 5!

Tyler Durden used COMPLETE OWNAGE! The attack missed!  
Miles used QUICKSILVER! A critical hit!

Tyler Durden used STRUGGLE! The attack missed!  
Bag  
-  
N00b ball  
Condom 6  
Vaseline  
Pork sword  
Bacon torpedo  
Meat-stick  
One-eyed avenger  
Mushroom head  
Atomizer  
Swedish pump  
Excalibur  
Lewd photo  
Cock rocket autograph  
Long Dong Silver's cellphone  
Sup4r ball  
G-string  
Splintmail  
Afro  
Hairspray 3  
Getridofit-2000 3  
Potion  
Ether  
Escape rope  
Evening gown  
Mindcontrol candy  
Hello, Kitty! vibrator 18  
Buster sword  
Ration 9999  
Orange juice  
Strawberry 2  
Metallica cockring  
Prince Albert  
Vince's ball

Used Vince's ball!  
Gotcha! Tylder Durden was caught! Do you want to give a name to Tyler Durden? Tyler Durden was transferred to Sean's PC.

-

"I can't believe we pulled that off," a plastered and partially gauze-wrapped Shadow commented while sipping from a cup of cocoa. He'd lost his all but one digit to the creature's onslaught, and the loss saddened him slightly. How was he able to hold the cup, you ask?  
Simple, really, for you see, he wasn't holding the cup, rather, Ky was, as well as seated behind the ebony warrior, dressed only in his loincloth, right hand toying with Shadow's non-existent nipples.

On the other side of Ebba Grön's café sat Miles, engaged in a lively battle of deadly metaphors and sharp wit.  
"You are not Jack's love for chocolate," the black-haired human known as Tylder Durden declared in a stern fashion, "I am Jack's love for chocolate," then he drained half his cup.

"Glad that we agree on something," smoldering, almost hostile. He planted both feet on the circular table then yawned quite loudly. It was clear to everyone that Tyler desired a verbal fight, however, the fox didn't appear to share his fire.

"You are not your black trench coat," the cup was calmly placed on the table, then Tyler produced a packet of cigarettes seemingly out of nowhere, "you are not your leather boots; your gun, or your knife. You are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." A single coffin nail was withdrawn, hurriedly stuffed into the left corner of his mouth, but never lit.

Several minutes passed them by, then Tyler leaned forward.  
"I am Jack's eternal patience," he calmly stated. Miles shook his head slowly.

"What's Jack waiting for?"

"Opportunities, moments to shine and prove the futility of man's struggle against its own nature," the pack was returned to whence it came, then a lighter was pulled out instead.

"How unfortunate for you that I'm not a man."

"I'm willing to compromise."

"You are Jack's loss for words."

"I am Jack's desire for a coat of real fox fur."

"Jack should act more and speak less."

"You don't know Jack, space monkey."

"What does Jack base that claim on?"

Sneers, unfriendly mutters, silent protests, yet everyone present knew that it could only end in disaster for the human.  
"Jack doesn't base claims," after a few seconds of futile staring, Tyler finally lit his smoke. "Jack knows these things instinctively, like infants know how to suckle tits for hours on end."

"In other words, Jack's not good at verbal combat."

"I am Jack's swollen ego."

"Jack shouldn't hide his failure behind metaphors."

To demonstrate his superior elite skills of death and destruction, Tyler discarded his cancer stick into his half-empty cup.  
"Listen, furball," cough, "I run this entire establishment. Fights, deals, roof, food - the works, and I set the rules. Rule number one; you do not belittle Jack. Rule number two; you do NOT belittle Jack! Rule number three; when Jack speaks, you look awestruck. Rule number four; when Jack mutters cryptic shit, you worship his words like they were the biggest cock in the world."

Every thread had been connected, ever mystery solved, every single ball of yarn untangled and made into a fashionable sweater. Miles leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest.  
"Hit me with something profound, so I can tear down your walls," a challenge so bold that Tyler couldn't refuse.

"People are products of hate, love, and consumer greed. You hate it, you buy it. You love it, you buy it. Cheap toys, disposable razors, cellphones, TV guides. You can't stop collecting, and your hoard of accessories grows over the years. All worthless, all meaningless, all so very essential to your existence. Your sofa defines you, your clothes give you life. You are what you buy - you are Calvin Klein. The lie inflates itself, bursts, then the inevitable killingspree follows once reality catches up. Jack, of course, knows this, but he refuses to acknowledge it. That's why he's Jack."

"And you're done."

"I am Jack's lack of further comments."

"I could spend several minutes telling Jack how wrong Jack is, but I won't."

"I am Jack's fatal curiosity."

"Jack will remain blissfully ignorant, because Jack doesn't deserve my words."

As much as he tried to hide it, Tyler knew that he'd been led, as opposed to leading. The taste, that of blood, wasn't pleasant, because it stemmed from wounds he hadn't invited.  
For the first time in his life, Tyler had been successfully manipulated.

-

VT2 - 2006


	9. Jack and Tyler's confessions

Jack and Tyler's confessions 

-

Jack went to Tyler with a boner about to explode from his pants he went to her and said, "get on the floor and start sucking" tyler unziped his pants but it was soo small she said, "i can help it get biger" she casted the spell, "ogabooga smell pantyhoes" she then said, "oops wrong spell" Jacks dick started to shake and all of a sudden millions of dicks came from nowhere! Jack laughed saying, "this is better than i expected" Jack jumped in the air and made his dicks go inside any ppl near by. Tyler screamed begging him to stop but he could no stop and he cumed on her face and kept going she said to her self, "how can he keep going when he cumed!" some girls enjoyed dicks goinging in there body and started to suck on it but others suffer fate for biteing Jack put his dick in there pussys and they cam out of there mouths when he cumed there bodys exploded some got it up the ass. Soon sperm was all over the world Jack kept fucking and fucking one girl named bob was sucking it and licking with pleasure she said put it deep in me Jack put his dick in her ass and it came out of the pussy she said, "yea yea it feels soo good" Jack put his dick in her eye ball she screamed and while it came out of her ass in to her pussy then out of her mouth. soon the planet was full of sperm and every one died but Jack he had super dick powers to make him live in space he was so horny he could no stand it he went to the planet called, "hoe land sexy boom boom" where he continued his sexually rampage! he was so horny he even fucked the men:O! some gay people sayed oh yea honey but Jack killed them soon after. then a alien like girl with 30 vaginas got fucked so hard she became fat from being full of sperm before explodeing then Jack went planet after planet fullfilling his sex power! but then e could never be satisfyed he went to the planet of sonic people and went to amy and cream he put his dicks in creams mouth ass and dick hole and put his cocks in amys nose ears ass pussy mouth and belle button. Jack saw he was fucking a shemale and killed her to lala land then put 2 dicks in amys pussy rouge the bat walked by and tryed to run but was consumed by dicks 5 in her ass 2 in her pussy 1 in her mouth but by then amy was dead fuck corpse rouge tryed to fly but was too weak but she actually like it she started to moan in great pleasure and asked for more dicks to be inside her so he put 10 in her pussy he was amazed she hasnt died but she wanted more and she blew up and died Jack them left to the planet called...

-

Dr. Dump - 2006.


	10. A Bad Chapter Even by Comparison

* * *

A Bad Chapter (Even by Comparison) 

-

"Sure glad we won that battle."

"Yeah, sure, it was great. What the hell is next?"

"I'm too goddamn shit tired to care. What do you say we get two rooms at the local inn of some kind and fuck loud enough for Tails to hear? That'll color his ass jealous in no time."

Cream smiled wryly at Shadow, her love of loves. "Fueling the fire for his angst, huh? I'm game."

"Me t- oh. _Game_. Right."

Well, you can guess what happened after that. They all went to the Local Inn, the local inn of Mansecks and it was surprisingly easy to drag Tails with them. They even told him of their vividly vulgar plan, twice. And he didn't even roll his eyes at them. Of course, Shadow was too busy reliving a much relived fantasy involving loads of nudity and Tails' inner flesh to see this, and Cream was too busy… whatever it is she thinks about. Cock. Cream is just one of those characters who neither calls for a complicated background nor deserves one. She looks cute and vessels dreams and fantasies. Besides, who doesn't like cock? Prove to me you don't like it. Tyler, who knows where Tyler was, I don't keep track of this shit, shut the fuck up.

One thing is for certain: Tyler never orders soup under any circumstances.

Entering the inn, our vastly diverse crew of ever expanding heroes broke away from the leader and fanned out in a formation to listen to the desk clerk, and what ensues is exactly the kind of useless bullshit RPG character development that taxes your thumb's ability to press a button over and over again. Lowers the replay value like a motherfuck.

"We'd like some rooms, please," our questionably mysterious hero says cheerily to the inn keeper. **Press enter**.

"Certainly, siiiiiiiiir," the inn keeper replies in an unnecessarily drawn out way which represents a bad writer's attempt at inserting as many quirky characteristics into secondary sprites as possible. **Press enter three times**. "Would you like some rooms for the evennnnning?"

**Choose one**. "Uh, yeah, fuckface. Rooms. You know, rooms?" **Press enter**.

Here, the scene pauses for comedic effect, two full seconds before the next word bubble pops up. The unending interior safe area music repeats and starts over. "Ahhh, yessss, rooooooms." **Loading time**. "I see you have **4** members in your paaaarty. How many roooms?" **Choose one**.

Their pocketbook depth easily displayed, Shadow's inflamed libido forever in mind and always thinking on its toes, he had no problem picking one. "Two, please." **Press enter**.

"Ahhhhhh, twoooo, for one niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

"Oh for fuck's sake…"

"iiiiiiiiiiiiight. Here are your keys, sir." **You have received Room Keys (2)**. Get it? Like in RPGs.

"Let me ask you something."

"Certainllllly, siiiir."

"Uh huh. What's your name?"

The character answers anyway, in spite of the redundancy. "Halberttastro."

"That's not your real name. Don't kid me."

"David R. Ellis."

"… Not-"

"No."

"Sure? Not the one who-"

"No, not him, sir."

"Just, a little strange, with the R and everything-"

"Well, I'm not _him_."

"That's weird."

"You are in luck. Bill Lee did a William Tell routine on his wife and now we have rooms available."

"I get it. Referential. Hand the fuck over the fucking keys."

Cream cheerfully entered their hotel room, bouncing over to the queen sized bed that defied all anachronistic facts, though there probably aren't any. "So, what next?"

Shadow took a deep breath, making sure to impress her by puffing out his chest really far. "First, we spend the night here and waste time. If we don't choose the option to skip ahead, we'll be able to get the very hard to find sword handle, which will come in handy when we meet the blacksmith in the next town over, although, it isn't a very fun boss battle if you can kill the guy in two hits. It's really more of an option for replayers."

"They can't think of enough ways to make this story unlikable, can they?"

"Nope. After one night here, we will be met by David R. Ellis, no relation, to follow a lead. The note he gives us will lead us to an abandoned house out in the dangerous, random fight ridden wilderness that will take us days to traverse. When we arrive, there will be a short fight, and we won't kill the mysterious old guy hiding behind the very fake but very dangerous monster hologram. He will point us to another town, and give to us a device what's purpose shan't be revealed. We'll arrive in Asssecks, no relation, to find the old man's homeless brother to give him the device. We will find him in an alley, the problem being that any attempt to speak with him will only be met with a series of meows and growls. We'll have to scour the alley for ten minutes to find the cat translator, then we will be able to understand his dream to become a real cat. We, then, must find a mage to do this for us. Only then will he uncover the secret of the device."

"Which will lead us to the other Chaos Emeralds?"

"Not yet. We'll find the mage halfway across town, a rather attractive female who specializes in transformations, but as it happens, her house was ransacked the previous night by a gang of street toughs, and they stole four valuable pieces of her spellbook. We then have to wait until nightfall to track down each of the toughs, the first of which is easy enough to dispatch, the second of who is tougher since he figured out how to make himself invisible, the third of what is even more so because he pawned it off, so we have to wait for morning to buy the page back from the local pawn broker, then wait until nightfall again to track down the fourth tough whom has decided to burn the pages. We then have to take the pages to an alchemist to negotiate a free reconstruction, since we will be out of money by then. After that, we'll have the pages to make the mage turn the old man into a cat, and then he will tell us what the device is: a compass that points directly to the king's palace across the sea!"

"And that's where we'll find the next Chaos Emerald?"

"No! After hiring a boat to take us across the sea (more random monster battles here along with boat training yes I am speaking in parenthesis), it will turn out that the king is too depressed to do anything but mourn for his single son and his inability to find a suitable wife. He, predictably, enlists our help to find him a woman. We scour the surrounding town for one he likes, even entering a boat contest because hey that boat training isn't for nothing, but during the course of this, the prince manages to fall in love with you. The king will be outraged and try to have us killed. At the last moment, you will produce a deus ex machina from the sky in the form of a knife that literally falls from the heavens, like in the story of the Dodo. Your past will be too mysterious for the prince to handle and then he'll decide to follow in his father's footsteps and marry his mother. Done and done. This entire ordeal will give you the ability to "see" where the next emerald is: at the bottom of the sea!"

"Uh, Shadow-"

"Getting there. So that's the end of the first disc."

"No, no, stop."

"… What?"

"I swear you've done this joke like 27 separate times."

"… Funnier every time."

"Uh, no."

Shadow crossed his arms, assuming a militant pose in every imaginable sense. "Every word is important."

"But-"

"EVERY. WORD."

"He's a hack. The only good thing he ever directed was Homeward Bound 2: Lost in San Francisco."

"Jack doesn't like current events or name-dropping for name-dropping's sake, particularly when its only purpose is to blanket the user in a false sense of superiority. It is a maneuver that anyone with a hobby can do, and Jack thinks hobbies that are not his own are a complete waste of gray brain matter and should be subject to reintegration into the collective whole."

Tails had frankly stopped listening after " and hoped to end the tirade with one word. "Deep."

"Jack doesn't go for deep. Jack moves rhythmically around the surface and hits all the right spots."

"A guy with a small dick says that to make himself feel better."

Tyler's furrow browed and his eyes flashed angrily. Nobody but nobody belittles Tyler's cockmanship. "Jack wishes for your death."

"Jack needs to stop thinking that he's big time."

"Very well. Could you cram as many movie references as possible into one story?"

"I'm afraid the time for that has come and gone, my friend." But it hadn't.

"You can spend your time on more important things."

"This _is_ important."

"Writing down every episode of every television show you've ever seen and rating them on a one-to-ten scale is important?"

Tails quickly put away his giant notepad, and pulled the acquired Chaos Emeralds out. "That's not what I'm doing." He admired the shiny, pseudo-realistic sheen of the surfaces of the emeralds. "What do you think happens when we get them all?"

"Don't want to ruin the surprise." Jack's grin grew into a smile and vice versa, his teeth matching the sheen of the emeralds and the cold fever of the eviscerating comfort of the wooden bench grillsomethingorother

Tails was disappointed. "Oh come on."

"Fine. The game ends."

"You call that surprising?"

Tyler's attention was drawn across the room, following the approaching noir author tribute figure. "Is that Sonic?"

"Oh God, that emotional holocaust is coming over?"

Indeed, he was indeed. What is painful about this for Tails is that Sonic tasted more like a bean sauce than a derlicious marinara sauce. Tails was allergic to beans, and loved his sauce. Sonic was therefore unwelcome to the party, and just when he and Tyler were beginning to have an actual conversation.

"Hello, fellow flesh piles," said Sonic, tipping his fedora, stolen from the mutilated corpse of Knuckles. "Wallowing in a state of self-despair, are we?"

"We are now."

Cream pulled away from the floor. "I think Sonic is downstairs in the restaurant."

"No, he went downhill long ago."

"You should say hi."

"I don't like the way he says nigger all the time."

"He… doesn't, but you should get with the times. Nigger is the new black."

"He'll say it if I go down there."

"He won't. He'll say 'Shadow! I haven't seen you in a coon's twat.'"

"Yeahhhhhh, a bit racist."

"You have to admit, it does sound like a long time."

"By themselves, the words are fine, but together, I have qualms. We stay here."

"In that case, let's get you inside me right away."

"Aw, but I want to watch The Brood."

"How the fuck do we manage to watch a Cronenberg film every time we're alone together?"

"You would prefer gay sex?"

"… What?"

"I bet you would." Shadow eyed her disapprovingly. "Queer."

"How does this even work in a videogaming sense?"

"It cuts back and forth to the conversations, I suppose."

"Games don't 'cut', shut up."

"Relax. Remember what Shadow says."

"Uh, 'I won't make love to a woman but I'll fuck the shit out of her.'"

"The other thing."

"'I have qualms.'"

"Yes, but no. 'Always-'"

"Ah yes, 'Always look before you reach impact point.'"

Kays leaned forward, apparently with them the entire time. "And 'Sonic is afraid of girls.'"

"Shadow is full of deep stuff." Tails interrupted Tyler before he could speak. "Besides cock."

Sonic looked shocked and offended. "He says wha about me?! For?"

"Because you're around them for five seconds before you scream 'Oh God, why are you so talkative!?'"

"… Huh. Well! This is the last time I share varbage with you coon twats."

"Sonic, this version of you represents all that is pointless in both fiction and the digestion thereof."

"The foot grew into a new robot years later. After awhile, I named him Haircut. The end."

"Not funny." Tails then set Sonic's coat on fire. "Never crossover into other universes, no matter how nice of a coat you have," he said, not even bothering to raise his voice over the sound of his pain.

"Jack is glad we finally had some proper closure on that."

"Where were we? Oh yeah. So what do you think he means when he says "drivin down your freeway?""

"Family is important, above all other things."

The décor starting to get to him, the view hurting his eyes, and the smells, well, not too pleasant either, Tails shrunk far into his seat under the weight of this very superficial, very worthless life. Desperate for a glimmer of hope, he looked for common ground. "You feel how pointless it is?"

".. Jack doesn't."

"I don't even know why I'm here."

Someone was hit on the head. Everybody laughed.

And then a waiter came by. "Sirs, what will you have?"

Tyler spoke up first. "I will have the soup."

-

Sean Catlett/King Hadbar - 2006


	11. Duel of passion

The**Ardent _blade_** - duel of passion.

* * *

The location: an isolated island, far, far away from civilization.  
The setting: standing in front of a giant cave's massive mouth.  
The facts: 'isolated' means twenty squares of blue-white pixels, commonly referred to as 'water'  
The truth: nobody cares.

-

Morning had never been so sweet, but then again, no one really knew what morning was anymore, or to begin with. The only times Shadow had ever spent in darkness were the sweet, flesh-splitting, highly arousing, guilt-ridden, pedophile moments in the caves back home. Calling morning 'sweet' was a lie, Shadow realized - too bad he couldn't erase his thoughts.

"Zilence, you fuel!" it was the most manly voice of them all, which belonged to the most manly of all men: Ky Kiske. Arguing with Tyler never got anyone anywhere, but he was obviously too dumb to realize this most well-known of facts. "Pink iz ze color of fazion! Not black!"

"I am Jack's love for color, pride, and festive occasions. When Jack says 'black,' he means black. When Jack says 'fuck your facehole through your asshole,' he means that you should shut up." Shadow held absolutely no love in his heart for Tyler. At all. Just the darkest of the darkest hatred.  
Oh yes.

They'd come a long way to get to wherever they were, and they had an even longer way to go to the place they needed to go. To visit.  
After the night at the inn, they had indeed meet up with David R. Ellis, no relation - this is an important note! - followed the lead, gotten the note that led them to the abandoned house out in the wilderness and enemy-packed forests, spent almost a week nagivating the maze-like green pixels of death, and the brown pixels of doom, fought the short fight, that they were destined to lose, but didn't, thanks to Tyler's inability to keep his mouth shut, somehow managed to defeat the evil and very deadly hologram, controlled by an old man, who looked like doctor Wily's twin, eyebrows and all. He then took his sweet-ass time to point them in the right direction - another town, Asssecks, no relation - this is also an important note! - all to find the old man's homeless brother, whom Miles decided to mutilate, rob, then throw off a building, While lying dying in an alley, he spilled his guts, quite literally, and the sword handle they were supposed to have gotten way, way back, after the inn, was discovered in one of his coat pockets. The reason for brutally murdering the homeless brother was that he refused to speak english, instead relying on meows and hisses, which pissed Tyler off so much that he paid Miles a quarter and a bar of milk-chocolate to silence the man. Unfortunately for everyone involved, this effectively broke the game's storyline, and at least one person behind the game wondered what the smartyman who decided it needed a free-form layout was thinking.

But, hark! Stalwart adventurers don't worry about petty details, such as broken quests! Oh, no, they so do not.  
Shadow, boldest among the bold, puffed out his chest, and took in a massive breath of semi-fresh, sea-smelling air.  
Before him, a cave shaped like a skull. Around him, beach, pine trees, and monkeys. Beneath him, Cream. Behind him, everyone else.

Two seconds of wild searching produced a massively useless machine, that Tyler's furious poking revealed translated meow to english. Miles sold it for half a boat, a fat collection of pok balls, two pirates, a fedora for the resurrected Sonic, and a vorpal blade for Tyler.

While pure logical suggested that they called the adventure off, and all went their separate ways, pure logic, sadly, had yet to be invented in this wild and untamed world, where blue pixels served as water, and fallen trees blocked road-access completely until removed by magic flutes. For absolutely no reason whatsoever, the mismatched crew stumbled through roughly half the town, and came upon a rather attractive female, who specialized in transformations, but, to complicate matters further, her house had been ransacked the previous night - or so she claimed, a claim which worsened Shadow's already pounding headache - by a gang of street thugs, led by the infamous, and ridiculously overpowered, for a miniboss, Billy 'Vdogg' Lee. For reasons that will never, ever, for any conceivable reason between heaven and hell, be explained, Vdogg had stolen four pieces of the mage's spellbook. It was decided that they needed to wait until nightfall, thus enduring several long, boring, horribly voice-cast, and terribly animated, cutscenes, complete with way too much sexual innuendo and anime-like romance for most sane men, women, and childrens' minds to survive. Fortunately for everyone involved, the gang of an unspecified number was everything but sane.

In a shocking twist of events, they had to fight the thugs one by one, and solve no less than five jumping-puzzles, one box-puzzle, and two that involved water, before each encounter. The first, being just the first, took little to no effort to kill, and everyone laughed cruelly as Shadow got his first confirmed kill so far into this most epic of adventures. The second one was a ninja, and thus knew the two most ninja-like of all moves: shuriken and invisibility. A bag of flour took care of that sucker damn fast.

"Look at that fag! He's drooling!" Shadow couldn't really pinpoint the source of the mean comment, but his melting mind assured him it was, indeed, aimed at him.

While the third thug was a total pushover, not even worthy of Shadow's attention, due to him having pawned the book piece, they did have to wait for yet another unspecified number of hours for sunrise, and, while they were doing this, yet another batch of horrendous cutscenes ambushed their asses - much like big, brown men ambush skinny, white men in prison.  
It was now that Tyler decided day meant night; not to spare himself more cutscenes or the horribly waiting time before night popped into existence - why, heavens, no - but because 'Jack doesn't agree that it has to be dark for it be night.'

In a shocking twist of events, Ky successfully passed a charisma-roll, and managed to seduce the local pawnbroker with little to no effort, but plenty of butthurt.  
Unfortunately, this meant they had to endure several minutes' worth of resting - which translated into hours of sleeping, cutscenes, and romantic subplots, featuring a love-triangle between Miles, Shadow, and Cream.  
Come morning, Tyler led the lovestruck and butthurt crew into a dark alley, absolutely not intent on making himself a coat of real foxfur, but - hark! The fourth thug lay in ambush for the daring bashers of justice.  
He admitted to having burnt the page, all in order to survive the cold night. As a token of appreciation, Tyler choke him with a fistful of pok balls, while Shadow stole his shoes - which were no less than twice his size. This made a single indian tear trickle from Shadow's conjoined eyes.

Only minutes later, they happened upon a mage, who they pleaded and begged for a free reconstruction of the pages.  
Unfortunately, the plot struck them down like lightning, and the mage refused. In a booming voice, he told them, and I quote: 'Hark, weary travelers! I may command the seven circles of hell, lead halflings to their doom, and wear a pointed hat, but a repairman of books, I am not! Thou must journey far and wide, beyond the four seas, the twelve mountains, and the land of the scorpion king, if thou art to find a copy of thee sacred fourth page!'

After some light persuasion, in the form of a knife to the throat, a fist to the balls, and a boot to the ass, the mage conceded, and broke the plot - recreating the whole deal using only three pages, and a handful of ashes.  
Shadow's underwear helped, too.

As Ky Kiske, supreme defender of manlove, recited the holy words laid upon the pages of truth, the mage began to twist and turn. With a boom, and in a puff of smoke, he turned into a black cat, forehead crowned by a tiny, yellow crescent.  
Miles, being fluent in cat, conversed with the feline, and effortlessly convinced it to spill the true purpose of the device. It was a compass - a magical compass, that points directly at the king's palace, across the sea!

A fool would expect that their goal lay in the halls of the king, but a fool is a fool, and Shadow, not being one, wisely knew better.  
The next chaos emerald would require much, much more work, of course.

After hiring a boat to journey across two out of the four seas, and fighting countless hordes of brainless minions, reaching far new heights in power, statures, and getting their super-badass numbers up higher, it turned out that the king was too depressed to do anything but mourn over the passing of his second son, and his inability to find a new wife.

Tyler, being such a pimp, offered him Jack as a new wife, and after Miles had had a stern talk with him, the king was glad, all was well with the land, there was marriage between Jack and the king.  
The bond of love sparked between Jack and the king, however, proved too strong, and Tyler well sick with jealousy. There were many, many battles, all involving pok mon, balls of all shapes and sizes, not to mention swordplay - of the fleshy kind.  
As the bittersweet carnage came to an end, it was decided that the king should marry his mother - to follow in his own father's footsteps. Two minutes later, they spawned a son of the most brooding and dark kind, and he said:

"At the bottom of the deepest pits of the sea, you shall find that which you seek!"

So it was that the wandering circus set off into the sunset, riding a flying boat, with a fusion reactor at its core, and tiny, butterfly-wings all over - now accompanied by a pale-skinned, blue-eyed, young man, dressed in leater, fur, and a tight tanktop. His silverbling beyond compare, and his weapon of choice - a gun that's also a sword - as if taken from another reality.

He was Squall Lionheart!

-

"Rogue seed, at your service!" Shadow didn't much like the new, tall, lanky, extremely cute-looking boy-man they'd picked up. After all, Shadow was the token cutie on their team.

Tyler stepped up to the plate, to assert dominance - pokeballs in hand.  
"Could you repeat that, monkeyboy?"

"It's not your business!" came the reply. Shadow sensed tension, but most of all, he sensed Ky's tented crotch at the back of his head. Looking behind him, he noticed that the french crusader was drooling - eyes stuck on the most masculine of japanese pride.

"It's Jack's business, and you don't know Jack, monkey! Now repeat, or I'll unleash my balls on you, while Jack teabags you with his other sets of balls!" Everyone gasped in unison, except Squall.

Now the moment of truth! Tension hung high in the air aboard the ship, and the two rivals locked eyes.  
More gasps, as Squall opened his lips, and prepared his comeback.  
"WHATEVER!"

-

VT2 - 2009


End file.
